


Kagutsuchi

by tambuli



Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Gen, Hanako Ohtani is the Protagonist, Internalized Fatphobia, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, Lesbian Hanako Ohtani, Naoki Konishi replaces Yosuke, fatphobia, japan being japan about weight stuff, no romance as of yet! but i just want you to know hanako is a big ol lesbian and naoki is very bi, the tags will update as I update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25420456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tambuli/pseuds/tambuli
Summary: There is no Souji Seta, no Yu Narukami. Instead, there is only Hanako Ohtani, the bored, unhappy heir to Inaba's only gas station. Hanako Ohtani: punchline of the joke; beached whale; snorting pig...And then her childhood friend Saki Konishi is murdered, and Naoki Konishi enlists her help in finding the truth behind his sister's killer.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	Kagutsuchi

**Author's Note:**

> Hanako Ohtani as P4G's protagonist? Who would ever want that?
> 
> Apparently, me.
> 
> Fair warning: Hanako replaces Souji/Yu, and Naoki replaces Yosuke as the founding members of the Investigation Team. You will not see Souji or Yu here, and Yosuke...won't show up for a long time.
> 
> Also: This fic contains internalized misogyny, homophobia, and fatphobia, as well as its EXTERNALIZED forms. Let's face it: Hanako Ohtani is a laughingstock not because of her personality but because of what she looks like. She and Ai Ebihara are rather similar, but you don't see Ai Ebihara being bashed or laughed at as much as Hanako, do you?
> 
> This fic will also contain changed or twisted social links, because Hanako is not the same as P4Protag and will thus encounter different people.
> 
> Lastly: Consider this fic canon-adjacent. That is to say, most things adhere to canon, but in other details I have let myself go ham.
> 
> Onwards!

4/12

Shirokami Ohtani was ranting again.

“…the way Dojima-san is raising his daughter, it’s absolutely disgraceful,” he growled, and slurped his tea rather messily, some tea trickling down his multiple chins. “Poor little Nanako-chan does all the grocery by herself, I saw her alone at Junes just yesterday—poor child, looks just like Chi-chan at that age, it’s an _outrage,_ she’s six years old…”

Hanako Ohtani sighed and rolled her eyes at her father, not bothering to hide it. Father didn’t notice, he was so busy with castigating Detective Ryotaro Dojima.

Chisato Dojima, lately of this world but no longer, was once Chisato Ohtani, Father’s dearly beloved cousin. It was, by now, a _very_ common occurrence that Shirokami would rant about how badly Nanako-chan was being raised by Dojima-san.

Father never did anything about it, though. That was the problem with Father. He would rant and yell and gesticulate with his chopsticks, but in the end he would never approach Nanako-chan, much less tell Dojima-san of his concerns. It was infuriating.

“…Chi-chan would never have stood for it,” Father continued.

Hanako rather doubted that. Chisato-basan in life had been petite and pretty, almost birdlike in her skinniness, and didn’t seem to ever have raised her voice in anger. Had she been born a few centuries earlier, she wouldn’t have looked out of place in the imperial court, hiding her face behind a fan.

“Whatever,” Hanako murmured, not particularly softly. “Father, I’m opening the gas station now.”

“Huh? Oh, yes, Hanako-chan, good girl,” Father said distractedly. He looks down at his breakfast and begins shoveling more food in his mouth.

Hanako rose from her seat, the chair giving a little groan as her considerable weight left it.

Moel Gas Station was Inaba’s sole gas station, and it had been owned by the Ohtani family since—since who knew when, really. Since vehicles had needed gas. They weren’t open 24/7—no one in Inaba needed gas in the middle of the night—but they did open fairly early.

As in, 7:00 early.

It was Hanako’s job to open the station and deal with the occasional morning customer, until 8:00 rolled around and Nami-san, the gas station attendant, came in. Then Hanako would go to school.

It was boring work, but Hanako didn’t actually quite mind watching the sun rise over Inaba. It was pretty.

Inaba was a boring, dumb town full of boring, dumb people, and Hanako was _sure_ Tokyo would be so much better than here. But when the sun rose over the shopping district and the sky began to turn from dark to grey to rose and orange—

Well. Hanako could appreciate beauty, even if the beauty was from _Inaba._ Ugh.

She sat in the little glass-walled office, where she could see if any customers came by needing a refill, and stared at herself in the faint reflection.

She looked especially good today, Hanako preened to herself. Her skin was clear and smooth, just like the oil cleanser commercial promised, and did her freckles look lighter? They did! The bleaching agent did work!

She turned sideways to admire her considerable curves, all but bursting out of her uniform blouse, and smiled a practiced coy smile. She had the biggest breasts in school, and Amagi-san could _choke._ She fluttered her eyes and tossed her hair, watching the two red ribbons she’d tied above her ears flutter as she did so.

“You look _great_ , Hanako-chan,” she told her reflection aloud. “Okay. Time to check homework.”

She lost herself in the kanji, nibbling at her lip as she mimicked the strokes in the air, and then—

Tapping on the glass.

She blinked and looked past the glass, and Nami-san appeared, waving.

“Good morning, Hanako-chan,” Nami-san said warmly. Her dark grey hair cascaded down her face in effortless waves. Hanako squashed a brief flash of bitterness. “Won’t you be late for school?”

“Who cares?” Hanako tried for a giggle. _Too snorty,_ she thought to herself. She would do better next time. “Good morning, Nami-san. Even if I were late, it wouldn’t matter. _Nothing_ matters in Inaba.”

“No?” Nami-san said, her red eyes probing. “Why not?”

“Nothing ever _happens_ here,” Hanako said, gathering her things. “It’s so dumb. Someday, I’ll go to Tokyo and exciting things will happen there.”

“If you want things to happen, you should make them happen,” Nami-san said wisely. She picked up a stray sheet of homework and handed it to Hanako. Goosebumps raced up Hanako’s arms.

“Go on, then,” Nami-san said, “you’ll be late for school. I’ve got the station.”

Hanako waved goodbye and walked off.

“Hanako-chan!”

She looked up, and saw the Konishi siblings walking briskly down the street from the liquor store.

Saki and Naoki Konishi were the children of the liquor store Konishis, Saki-senpai in the year above Hanako, and Naoki-kun the year below. Both were willowy, Naoki a little shorter than his sister, with identical curly hair. Saki-senpai’s hair hung loose in a mass of waves, while Naoki’s was cut short and thus curled and frizzed everywhere. They had the same slanting eyes.

“Good morning, Naoki-kun, Saki-senpai,” she greeted.

Saki-senpai smiled at her sunnily. “Good morning, Hana-chan.”

Naoki-kun made fake gagging noises. “Isn’t that what you call the Junes boy?”

“Yosuke Hanamura? He’s in my year,” Hanako said, and the three fell into step walking to school together. “He’s _soooo_ annoying.”

“He is,” Saki-senpai said, “but…” she shrugged.

“He tried the Amagi challenge, I think,” Naoki contributed. Saki smacked him lightly. “What?”

“Don’t call it that, it’s very rude to Yukiko-san.”

“I doubt she even knows that exists,” Hanako scoffs, tossing her head. “I’ve never met a more oblivious girl in my life.”

Oblivious…but _so_ pretty. Hanako could see why so many boys tried the Amagi Challenge—which was, basically, just to ask Yukiko Amagi out. And she’d shot down every single one. She’d never had a boyfriend or even went on a date, the rumor mill said, and instead of that being pitiable or ridiculous, it was seen as _pure_ and _lovely_ , like snow.

If Hanako had ever confessed that she’d never been on a date—which she had! She totally had, by the way!—she would be a laughingstock. On Amagi-san, it would only make her more desirable.

Hanako pushed the thought violently away.

“Hana _ko_ -chan,” Saki said, emphasizing the change. “Don’t be unkind.”

“It’s not unkind if it’s true,” Hanako countered.

“Let’s change the subject,” Naoki butted in. “Have you ever heard of the Midnight Channel?”

“Huh?”

“The Midnight Channel!” Naoki repeated, and adopted a spooky voice. “It’s said, that if you look into a TV in the middle of a rainy night…you’ll see… _your soooooulmate._ ”

“You care about finding your soulmate, Naoki-kun?” Saki crooned.

“W-well, I—!”

“I think that’s so cute,” Saki continued ruthlessly. “You’ll have to tell big sis who you see on TV, okay? Big sis will do her best to get you and her together—”

“Saki-nee!” Naoki whined.

“Naoki-kun,” Saki sing-songed back.

Hanako suppressed her giggles. They came out as snorts.

“Anyway,” Naoki rallied, “one guy in the other class said he saw his soulmate last week. Mayumi Yamano, the announcer?”

Saki-senpai frowned. “The one who was caught in an affair with Taro Namatame? What an unfortunate soulmate.”

“You can’t control fate,” Naoki singsonged back.

And then they were at the gates of the school, and they all separated to their different classes.

***

School passed, as school is wont to do.

Hanako looked around at the plain wooden classroom and the plain wooden desks and the plain wooden shutters that showcased the boring ugly fog that enveloped much of Inaba. She sighed and sank into her seat. The chair gave a little groan.

She heard a snicker. She ignored it.

She mostly dozed through her classes—she’d just cram during exam time, as usual—though she did hear her classmates gossiping about the Midnight Channel.

“The boy in the other class said he saw _Mayumi Yamano_.”

“Huh? The announcer who had an affair with that secretary?”

“Yeah. I heard she’s from Inaba too. And the secretary as well.”

“Wow.”

“She’s staying at the Amagi Inn until all the media interest dies down,” the other classmate shared.

“No!”

“Yes!” Her classmate seemed utterly delighted to be the bearer of juicy gossip. “Hey, what if we ask Amagi-san about it?”

“Ooh, good idea.”

As they walked away to interrogate Amagi-san, Hanako heard them say, “Well? Are we looking in the TV tonight?”

“I guess…”

“Who do you want to see? Ooh, I bet it’s—”

 _Soulmate, huh,_ Hanako thought to herself, her head pillowed on her arms, and when the inevitable thought came, she pictured herself smashing it to pieces with her fists.

The next time Hanako woke from her half-doze, it was because of blaring sirens. Her classmates burst into curious babble.

“Huh?”

“What’s going on?”

“What’s happening?”

“Oh wow, it’s so foggy out. Was there a car crash?”

The intercom came on, telling them all to stay calm—her classmates ignored that handily—and then, later, to _go straight home_.

“Huh? Why?”

“But I had club,” her classmates whined.

“If I go home I’ll have to look after my little brother!”

Hanako heaved herself up from the chair, and heard stifled snickers.

“It’s like watching a beached whale,” someone murmured snidely.

“Or a pig.”

She tossed her hair and left.

It wasn’t like she had club or anything. Everything was too boring in Inaba. What was the point of joining anything at all? She was going to get out of here and go to Tokyo and see Harajuku Street and all the _fashion_ there. High school clubs didn’t matter a _whit._

As she went down the stairs, she caught sight of Naoki’s distinctive curls. He turned, and saw her too.

“Hanako-senpai! Want to walk home together?”

“…sure,” Hanako said, surprised. “Is Saki-senpai coming too?”

“No, she left early for her shift,” Naoki said.

They fell silent for a moment.

“How are you enjoying high school, Naoki-kun? Nao-kun,” she tested.

Naoki startled at the new nickname, then smiled. “I don’t know yet. It’s not much different from middle school, I guess? It’s still the same faces, we just changed locations.”

“That’s true. We haven’t had any transfers for years—except Hanamura, I guess.”

Naoki made a face.

Hanako sympathized. The entire shopping district knew Hanamura, and his connection to Junes. More than that, Hanako knew that Konishi-san was incandescently furious at Saki-senpai’s decision to work at Junes.

“Your father still—?”

“He’s still angry, yes,” Naoki confirmed, as they exited out to the residential areas. He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say more, then decided against it.

“Hey—what’s that?”

A police cordon was set up in the street, with violently yellow crime scene tape spread all over the street corner. Blue tarp was spread on the asphalt. Gawkers had gathered about, gossiping shamelessly.

“What’s this?” someone asked loudly.

“A crime scene! The fire department just took it down!”

“Took what down?”

“A _dead body._ ”

“A WHAT?”

The crowd of gawkers took up the whisper. “A dead body? Here? In Inaba?!”

“Hey! Hey! Clear out!” someone hollered. “Go on, get! You kids, what are you doing here?”

Naoki shrank back at the loud noise, and Hanako looked up, ready to tear into whoever yelled—

“Dojima-san,” she said, startled.

Chisato-basan’s husband was still overwhelmingly tall, just like he had been when Hanako had been younger. So it wasn’t a trick of childhood, he really was tall. There were dark bags beneath his eyes and scruff on his chin, and his hair was uncombed. His shirt was unbuttoned at the throat and his tie loosened.

 _Unkempt,_ Hanako sneered to herself. _And disrespectful._

“Do I know you?” Dojima asked, dark brows furrowing.

“I’m Hanako Ohtani,” she said, raising her chin.

“Hanako—ah.” Dojima looked like he’d been struck by lightning, or a judgment by God.

She remembered what he’d been like at Chisato-basan’s bone-picking ceremony. He’d looked like a wreck. His hands were shaking so much, his daughter Nanako had to take over picking out her mother’s bones. 

Can’t believe he would have forgotten Hanako so fast. Although he was disrespecting Chisato-basan with every day he neglected his daughter, so was it really so surprising?

Hanako mentally shook herself. She must have listened to too many of Father’s morning rants.

“I-in any case,” Dojima stuttered, “you shouldn’t be here. Go home.”

“We’re trying,” Hanako said, chin jutted out. “Your crime scene’s in the way.”

Dojima’s eyebrow twitched.

“Hanako-senpai,” Naoki said, tugging at her bag. “Come on, let’s just go around.”

Hanako glared daggers at Dojima until they turned the corner.

After a few moments of walking in silence, Naoki finally said, “You were so angry at him, Hanako-senpai. Why?”

Hanako exhaled through her teeth. It came out as a hiss. “My father hates him.”

Naoki looked like he was about to ask something else, but then they turned a corner, and Hanako’s vision narrowed to a tiny girl with a birdlike stance and a pink backpack.

“Nanako-chan?” she blurted.

Chisato-basan’s daughter looked up from across the street. Big brown eyes, pale skin, hair pulled back into pigtails. She _did_ look exactly like Chisato-basan.

“Um, hello,” she said, and slowed to a stop. Hanako and Naoki did the same. They stared at each other across the street. “Do I know you?”

Hanako took a deep breath.

Unbidden, Nami-san’s voice from this morning came to mind: _If you want things to happen, make them happen._ And her own, snide thoughts about Father even earlier: _The problem with Father is that he would never approach Nanako-chan._

“I’m Hanako Ohtani, your mother’s…cousin, I guess,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Hanako-san. I don’t remember you,” Nanako said, her tiny high-pitched voice wavering.

“It’s all right,” Hanako said, staring at the little girl. She was so tiny, so frail. She could see the kid’s wristbones from here. Hanako’d read somewhere birds had hollow bones. “You were very young when…you were very young. We didn’t visit much.”

Nanako nodded. Hanako nodded. They stood in awkward silence on opposite sides of the street.

“I’m Naoki Konishi,” Naoki said, breaking the silence, and began to cross. “Do you want us to walk you home? It’s a bit dangerous out right now.”

Hanako came to her senses and followed him.

“I’m Nanako Dojima.” Naoki glanced at Hanako, surprised. “It’s okay, I walk home from school alone all the time,” the little girl continued, a little proudly. Then: “Dangerous?”

“Ah—never mind that,” Naoki said, shooting a panicked look at Hanako. “How about we walk you home? Where do you live?”

Nanako gave them directions, and they walked the little girl home.

“Ah—do you like school, Nanako-chan?”

“I do! I like art class and kanji the most because it’s like drawing—”

The girl transformed from shy girl to animated chatterbox during the walk home. She liked bugs and vegetables, but bugs _in_ vegetables were bad; she liked mochi very much but liked pudding more; and she **_looooved_** Junes.

“Everyday’s great at your Junes!” she sang. Naoki’s face acquired a pinched look.

Eventually they got to the Dojima residence. Hanako surveyed it critically: there was a garden, and it had once been pretty, but had fallen into disuse. There were leaves in the rain gutters and dirt in the upper floor windows, though Hanako noticed the ground floor windows were shining clean.

Nanako-chan cheerfully waved goodbye. “It was nice to meet you!” she said happily. “Thank you for walking me home!”

“No problem,” Hanako and Naoki said by rote, and then left to get to their own homes.

“Cute child,” Naoki said, after a moment. “Your cousin?”

“Sort of,” Hanako said. “My father and her mother were cousins. We’re second cousins.”

“You’d be more of a big sister type, I guess,” Naoki said.

“Huh? No. Dad doesn’t have any more children.”

They chatted idly for a few more moments, and then Moel Gas Station came into view. Hanako waved Naoki goodbye. “Take care,” she said.

“You too, Hanako-senpai.”

When she turned to go in, Nami-san was there, grinning. “So, a _boy_ is walking Hanako-chan home, hmm?” she singsonged. “Should I inform Ohtani-san?”

“He’s just my junior,” Hanako dismissed. “Konishi from down the street. It’s his first day of high school. I decided to be nice.”

“That’s so kind of you, Hanako-senpaaaai,” Nami-san crooned, and laughed. “Oh, Hanako-chan. I’m happy you’re making friends.”

“We’re not friends,” Hanako denied. “We’re just…we grew up together, kind of. In this town, everyone knows each other anyway. And we’re both from the shopping district.”

“Mmm,” Nami-san said, clearly not believing her.

 _Whatever_ , Hanako thought, and went in to greet her father.

***

Later that night, as Hanako and her father sat eating dinner, the news came on with the information that Mayumi Yamano, the announcer, had been murdered.

“Murdered? In Inaba? It’s a disgrace!” Father said, almost yelling. “Who did it?”

“We don’t know yet, Father,” Hanako said, inwardly rolling her eyes.

“I bet it’s that Dojima they put on the case,” he seethed. “Some hotshot detective he thinks he is, but I bet he can’t solve this case—Mayumi Yamano, murdered, why, her parents were very good people, her brother was my senpai—”

“I saw Nanako-chan today,” she interrupted. Rude, but she didn’t care. If you got Father going on Dojima-san, he would take hours. “We walked her home from school.”

Father’s big fat face shone with curiosity and delight. “Oh? You did? What was she like?

“…Small,” Hanako said, after a pause.

“Like Chi-chan,” Father sighed, half-happily, half-sadly.

 _Everyone is small when they’re six, Father,_ Hanako thought acidly. “She likes kanji and art class. And pudding.”

“Art?” Father said. Hanako half-expected the “Just like Chi-chan” that came out of his mouth next. “Pudding, too? Why don’t you make some, and take it over to her? You know where she lives now.”

 _Why don’t you do it yourself?_ Hanako thought snidely.

“You’re a good cook, Hanako-chan,” Father said, “and a good girl. So nice of you to walk Nanako-chan home…”

Hanako half-expected Father to say _just like Chi-chan,_ since there was no one he complimented as strenuously as Chisato-basan, but he didn’t. Father mopped off his sweat.

Looking at Father, Hanako could pick herself out from his features—same eyes, same nose, same bone structure. The only thing she didn’t have from Father was the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and the brown of her hair.

The news blared on in the background, something about who discovered the body and such. Hanako ignored it, and got up to wash the dishes.

***

Later that night, she stared at her homework but didn’t really see it.

Cute, tiny Nanako-chan, who would probably grow up to be pretty and skinny…

Cute, tiny Nanako-chan, who was Chisato-basan’s daughter…Chisato-basan who had come over so many times when Mother—

When Mother.

 _Saintly_ Chisato-basan, Father’s favorite cousin, endlessly patient and ladylike, _wasted_ on that stupid detective (Father’s opinion, which Hanako now shared after seeing the man and Nanako-chan)…

Hanako got up and looked out the window.

She glanced at the television, which reflected herself staring at it.

 _Soulmate, huh._ She turned on her computer and Googled “soulmate japan”.

Moments later, she shut it off, rolling her eyes.

“Red thread of fate. Destined lover. What _bullshit_.”

An invisible red thread, tied from her little finger to the thumb of the man she was destined to love? _Bullshit._ How stupid. 

Stupid. And what was that about the Midnight Channel? Would it show where her thread led to?

She rolled her eyes again and went to sleep.

***

4/13

“Did you try the Midnight Channel last night, Hanako-chan?”

Hanako squinted at Saki, whose entire body seemed to sag with exhaustion. Her beautiful curly hair was scraggly and limp, and there were bags under her eyes. The smile she wore seemed forced.

“No,” Hanako said. “I don’t need a soulmate.”

“Anyway, it wouldn’t have worked,” Naoki said, coming up from behind them and throwing a worried look at his sister. “It wasn’t raining yesterday. It has to be rainy before you can see anything.”

“Sure,” Hanako said, doubtfully.

“It’s true!”

“Have you seen it then, Naoki-kun?” Saki crooned. “Who’s my little brother’s destined soulmate?”

“I just told you, it didn’t work last night!”

“So you did try last night!”

Saki seemed drawn and tired this morning, but teasing her little brother seemed to perk her up enough to get her to school with a faint smile on her face. Good for her.

School was boring, as usual—although after class, as Hanako exited her classroom, she heard hollering from the next room.

“What’s happening?” she asked Kou Ichijo.

“Hanamura broke Chie-chan’s DVD and she kicked him in the ‘nads for it.”

Hanako raised her eyebrows.

“Satonaka has balls,” Kou’s friend Daisuke Nagase said admiringly. There was a bandage on his nose. Why was there a bandage on his nose? It didn’t look injured or anything.

“Yeah, and Hanamura doesn’t anymore,” Kou laughed.

“Satonaka is such a tomboy,” Hanako commented, a touch snidely. “I bet that DVD was some kicking movie or something.”

“Trial of the Dragon. It’s her favorite,” Kou said quickly, and then, “I think. I guess. I don’t know.”

Hanako was already walking away.

Neither Saki-senpai nor Naoki-kun were around when she left, so she didn’t look for them and instead went straight home.

Or at least, she would have…but something diverted her feet from the way home to the elementary school.

She scanned the masses of kids leaving the school to go home, trying to pick out a little girl with a pink backpack and a stance like a bird.

“Hanako-san?” a little voice piped up.

Hanako glanced down, and there she was: Nanako-chan, a baby bird with pink wings.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in her tiny piping voice.

“Looking for you,” Hanako said. “Did you want to walk home together?”

Her eyes widened. “Really? You—you want to walk me home?”

“Or you can come over to my house,” Hanako said, not really knowing why the words were coming out of her mouth. “You have an uncle who wants to meet you. My father, Shirokami. He loved Chisato-basan very much.”

“Shirokami-ojisan?” Nanako said hesitantly, as if testing the words in her mouth. “I didn’t…I didn’t know I had an uncle.”

Damn that Dojima.

“You were very young,” Hanako said, finally. “Do you want to come, Nanako-chan?”

“Yes, please!”

“Come on, then.” And then, without really knowing what she was doing, she extended a hand to Nanako.

Nanako looked at her large, meaty paw with a sort of fragile awe.

“Come on, Nanako-chan,” Hanako said, awkwardly.

Slowly, Nanako stretched her hand out to Hanako’s. When the older girl didn’t pull it away, Nanako all but snatched Hanako’s hand, and they walked down the road together.

***

“I’m home,” Hanako called, as Nanako looked around the Ohtani home with big eyes.

The Ohtanis didn’t necessarily live above their business, which was common in the shopping district; it was a gas station and that was dangerous. But they lived fairly nearby.

Hanako’s mother was…an extravagant woman, and the house was large to accommodate for her tastes. She had liked the idea of having extra rooms for overnight guests, and a beautiful garden for them to admire, and flowers all the time.

In the years since she’d been gone, though, Hanako and her father had closed off the guest rooms and turned the extravagant garden into vegetable plots. Right now, there were tomatoes and eggplant seedlings planted in careful rows; next week, Hanako would put in the cabbages.

The only thing that remained of Hanako’s mother’s perfect garden was a tall, dome-shaped Japanese maple, now brilliantly pink in celebration of spring.

“It’s big,” Nanako said.

“It is,” Hanako agreed awkwardly.

“Welcome home!” Father called, and thundered into the room. “Hanako-chan—wait, _Nanako-chan_?”

Nanako shrunk back at the sight of Father’s impressive size.

Father was tall and wide, the epitome of big-boned, and his voice was ridiculously loud to boot. He looked like he could snap Nanako like a twig.

Which he would never do. His eyes began to water at the sight of Chisato-basan’s daughter.

“Nanako-chan,” he said, choked. “It’s so good to see you again. I am your Shirokami-ojisan.”

“Shirokami-ojisan,” Nanako parroted carefully. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I haven’t seen you properly in many years,” he continued, and walked over to her. Hanako really would not have been surprised if Father knelt down before the little girl, but he didn’t. Instead he loomed over her instead. Nanako herself seemed to want to shrink behind Hanako, but stood her ground. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I—I,” Nanako looked a little terrified.

“A snack, at least,” Hanako intervened. “Come, I think I have some pudding in the fridge.”

“Pudding?” Nanako’s eyes went wide.

“Yes,” Hanako said, and led Nanako away by the hand. She didn’t miss her father’s eyes watering at the casual contact between the two of them.

 _Just like me and Chi-chan as children!_ She imagined Father sobbing.

“I’ll call your father to ask you over for dinner,” Father said to Nanako.

“Um,” Nanako said, and then… “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never trouble when it comes to you, Nanako-chan,” Father said intensely.

Nanako enjoyed the pudding very much, though she took care to eat properly and not mess it up. She ate with delight, praising its deliciousness, and when Hanako mentioned she had made it, her eyes went the size of dinner plates.

“I’ve never had pudding this good before!” she enthused. “It’s even better than Junes!”

Hanako bit her lip.

Nanako sang _Everything’s better at your Junes_ to herself as she ate the pudding.

Hanako found herself wanting to touch the little girl’s hair, brush her fingers through the soft brown. She almost reached out, then saw her hand was about the size of the child’s face, and pulled herself back.

Father came into the kitchen, scowling at the cellphone in his hands. “Dojima- _san_ ,” he sneered, “wants you home for dinner, Nanako-chan. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Nanako said, her utensil clinking against the plate, “he needs me home to cook anyway.”

Father’s face darkened with anger.

“Feel free to come by any time you want, Nanako-chan,” Hanako intervened, “Father would be very happy to see you more.”

“And you too, Hanako-san?”

“Very much,” Father said, before Hanako could say anything. “Now, why don’t I walk you home? It’s gotten dark out.”

Hanako turned her face away. “I’ll get started on dinner, Father.”

“Thank you, Hanako-chan.”

***

Father walked Nanako home; Father arrived, bursting with delight at Chi-chan’s precious child (an angel! So clever! So engaging and sweet! Just like her mother!); Father ate dinner; Father passed out in front of the television. Hanako washed the dishes and went to her room and stared at her homework, not taking in any of it.

Outside her window, the rain pelted against the roof violently.

Her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hanako-senpai? It’s Naoki.” Her junior sounded frazzled, and the rain sounds in the background indicated he was outside. “Have you seen Saki-neechan anywhere?”

“Saki-senpai? No, not since this morning.”

“Damn.” Naoki cursed some more, in language his mother would have smacked him for. “She’s not home, she’s not at Junes, she’s not _anywhere._ We can’t find her!”

Hanako bit her lip. “Is it like—last time, when—”

“ _No_ ,” Naoki snapped, and then, “…maybe. I don’t know. But she hasn’t been dating anyone, and last time she said she was going to earn her way out instead of hanging on to anyone else.”

“I see.” Hanako didn’t really know what to say. “Have you called the police?”

“My parents have.”

“Want me to come outside and help search?”

“It’s raining out,” Naoki said reluctantly. “You’ll get sick. Thank you for the offer, though, Hanako-senpai.”

“You’re outside, too,” Hanako pointed out.

“Yes, and I’ll probably get sick,” Naoki half-joked. “Better me than you, senpai.”

Hanako hummed, and he hung up.

A few months ago, Saki-senpai had run off or something with a college guy, wanting to get out of this horrible boring town and its horrible boring occupants. Hanako could sympathize. But she’d come right back. If this was the same situation, Hanako had no doubt Saki-senpai would come back, too.

Saki was tied to this place. Her, Naoki, hell, even Kanji Tatsumi from Tatsumi Textiles and Aika Nakamura from the Chinese diner Aiya.

Not Hanako, though. Hanako was going to leave for Tokyo as soon as she graduated high school. She was going to become famous and get photographed a lot on Harajuku Street, and she would convince Father to sell the gas station, maybe to Junes, and then he would move to Tokyo with her (but not in the same apartment!) and she, Hanako Ohtani, was never, ever, _ever_ coming back to Inaba.

The TV flickered on.

“W-what?!” Did she accidentally sit on the remote— _no._

Midnight. Rainy night.

Hanako scrambled to her feet and stood in front of the TV, her heart in her throat.

Long, curly hair—

_Long?_

Thunder and lightning crashed outside Hanako’s window—

_A Yasogami girl’s school uniform._

_She was being pushed—thrown around—_

The head snapped back—the long, curly hair flashed on screen—

The face, for a moment—

“Saki-senpai?!”

And then the power blew out, and all the lights in her room flickered off. Hanako stumbled backwards, and when her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her TV was completely off.

Hanako blinked. Was it a hallucination, brought on by her worry for Saki-senpai? Was it some sort of static thing brought on by the storm? Dumb idea, she dismissed that out of hand—she wasn’t Amagi-san smart, but even she knew storms couldn’t produce images in unpowered TVs.

She reached out to the TV, checking if it had staticky aftershocks or something—

The TV screen **_rippled like water_** , and her hand sank straight through.

She screamed, and from her father’s room she heard, “HANAKO-CHAN!”

Father was up in moments, his footsteps crashing through the hallways—Hanako yanked her hand out and overbalanced, falling to the floor—the next moment, the lights blinked on and Father was there, looming over her.

“What happened, Hanako-chan?” Father asked, pulling her up.

 _MY HAND WENT INTO THE TV!!!!_ Hanako wanted to yell, but instead choked out, “I—fell? The lights turned off and I fell.”

Father frowned. “It’s midnight, Hanako-chan! You should be in bed by now.” He noticed her homework on the desk. “Do your homework tomorrow morning. Better with fresher eyes.”

“Yes, Father,” Hanako said.

“Go to sleep, Hanako-chan.”

“Yes, Father.”

***

4/14

Hanako stumbled through cooking breakfast the next day, accidentally burning the fish. Father noticed, frowning.

“Tired, Hanako-chan?”

“A little, Father.”

“That’s what you get for sleeping at midnight,” Father chided. “Don’t do that again, Hanako-chan.”

“Yes, Father.”

“You need a full eight hours’ rest,” Father continued to lecture. “You’re a growing girl, Hanako-chan. You should be asleep by 22:00 and awake by 6:00—”

Hanako tuned out her father’s words and concentrated on her breakfast. What kind of self-respecting teenager went to sleep at 22:00? Anyway, she could sleep more if she didn’t have to open the station. But never mind trying to tell Father that.

Saki-senpai in the TV—Saki-senpai was her soulmate? _Impossible._ First of all, Hanako wasn’t a lesbian. Second of all, even if Hanako _were,_ Saki-senpai wasn’t her type.

Saki-senpai was pretty, but if Hanako was going to be a lesbian—which she _wasn’t,_ but if she _were—_ she would want to be with someone equally as gorgeous as her. Being with someone uglier was settling, and being with someone prettier was next to impossible, since Hanako was the prettiest this town had to offer.

Although maybe in Tokyo there would be girls who also liked girls _and_ were pretty? Food for thought. But only hypothetically, because Hanako **_wasn’t a lesbian._**

“—did you hear the Konishi girl is missing?”

Hanako blinked back into the conversation. “Yes, Father. Nao-kun—the Konishi boy,” she clarified, and father nodded, “he called me last night asking if I’d seen her.”

Father frowned. “I heard,” he said, lowering his voice, “that it was the Konishi girl who’d discovered, you know…the body.”

“The bo—oh, you mean the announcer,” Hanako realized. “I didn’t know that. Saki-senpai didn’t look well yesterday.”

“No wonder,” Father tsked, “a girl like that, discovering the body. Doesn’t she work at Junes?”

“…Yes, Father.” Hanako braced herself. But Father only nodded.

“Nanako-chan likes Junes,” he said.

“She does, Father.”

Father chewed his burnt fish.

“Go open the station, Hanako-chan.”

“Yes, Father.”

***

Nami-san took one look at Hanako’s tired face that morning, and immediately assumed she’d had a sleepless night because of her feelings for the Konishi boy. When Hanako denied having feelings for Nao-kun, Nami-san pounced on the nickname and teased Hanako relentlessly. It was a relief to pack up her homework and head down the street to school.

And then she turned right back around and went up north to Konishi Liquors.

“Good morning,” Hanako said, when the door opened to Saki and Naoki’s mother’s red-eyed face. She had her daughter’s face, but not her curls. The curls came from the male Konishi-san.

“Konishi-san, I heard about Saki-senpai. Is Nao-kun in?”

Konishi-san blinked, and Hanako clarified, “I wanted to walk him to school.”

“Oh,” she rasped. Her throat was raw from crying. “That’s so kind of you, Hanako-chan, but Naoki is sick today.”

“Oh,” Hanako said. “Oh, well, I told him not to be out in the rain last night, but…”

“Naoki is very stubborn,” Konishi-san agreed. “Thank you for your concern, Hanako-chan.”

Hanako demurred. “I hope Saki-senpai comes back soon,” she said.

Konishi-san looked very tired when she said, “I as well.”

***

4/15

The next day, Hanako woke to sirens wailing.

“What happened?” she asked Father, as she served breakfast.

Father’s reading glasses were perched upon his small nose, and he squinted at the newspaper. “I don’t know. Oh, Saki Konishi is mentioned in this article. She really did discover the body. Has she been found?”

“No, Father, and Nao-kun wasn’t at school yesterday,” Hanako said.

Father set down his newspaper, and looked very grave, like an unsmiling Buddha. “Hanako-chan,” he began, “do you think…”

Hanako felt a sick trickle of fear. _Father, don’t say it,_ she wanted to scream, _don’t say it, if you say it, it makes it real—_

“Do you think the killer of the announcer…targeted Saki-san?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. She nodded.

“I’ll call Dojima-san,” Father said. Hanako jerked her head up, confused. “I’m sure that _hotshot detective_ is busy working the case, and Nanako-chan is all alone in that house, no mother or anyone to look in on her…she could be targeted, for all we know. I want her to stay here until we’re sure the killer won’t strike again.”

Anger flashed through her, hot and bitter. “You care a lot about that little girl,” she said, trying her best to make her voice level.

“She’s the only thing left of Chi-chan,” Father said, “of course I do.”

Hanako nodded stiffly.

“I’ll go open the station,” she said.

Father was already pulling out his phone, ignoring her.

***

Nao-kun wasn’t in school that day, either.

Hanako, sitting in the gymnasium that afternoon, could only praise all the kami that he wasn’t.

“I am so sorry to announce,” the principal said, sounding _anything_ but, “that one of our third-year students have passed away.”

A breath, and then an explosion of chatter—

“Saki Konishi.”

An even louder explosion of chatter.

“The girl who discovered the body?”

“God, you don’t think—?”

“A serial killer!”

“Naoki-san hasn’t been in school for two days—”

“I heard she was found hanging from a telephone pole!”

“Upside down!”

“What? What kind of sicko?”

“She was still wearing her uniform. Her uniform _skirt_ ,” someone said, voice full of meaning. There were gasps.

“Are there photographs? Will it be in the newspaper? Will it be on TV?”

“SHUT UP!”

Hanako was on her feet, her mouth open—but it wasn’t her who had yelled the words, though they were on the tip of her tongue.

Yosuke Hanamura had been faster than her. He was on his feet, tears gathering in his eyes, hands balled into fists.

“Shut up about Saki-senpai! Shut up about her skirt!” he yelled. “You think it’s funny? You think that’s sexy? A girl is _dead_ and all you can think about is upskirt photos?!”

A tear trickled down his cheek. He dashed it away.

He unclenched his fists. “You bastards,” he spat, “you worthless bastards.”

He stormed away.

Hanako could only stare.

The students he’d shouted at were frozen, some form of guilt trickling into their faces. Then the ringleader scoffed.

“Junes boy acting so self-righteous,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I bet he’s only so upset about Konishi’s death and her _skirt_ because he wanted under them, if you get my drift.”

Hanako’s blood began to boil.

 _How dare he—how dare he!_ She raged, her anger bubbling up, like fire, like lava. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

She stalked forward. She could hear her heartbeat roaring in her ears.

“She was a loose woman, anyway,” the guy continued, laughing an ugly cruel laugh. The boys around him began to edge away. “I bet she got what was coming to her—”

One moment, Hanako’s fist was at her side. The next moment, it was colliding with the guy’s nose.

There was a sickening _crunch_ , and then pain bloomed in her knuckles. The guy all but flew backwards with the force of her punch.

“What the hell’d you do that for?!” the guy yelled, his voice going high-pitched in panic and pain. Blood bubbled from his nose and trickled down his face. He wiped it off roughly, and then cursed once he saw the blood.

He’d landed on his ass, and as Hanako advanced, he began scrambling backwards on his hands.

“What are you doing, you crazy fat bitch—”

She leaned her weight backwards, and then let her right foot _fly_ towards the guy’s ribcage.

The guy yelled as her foot collided with his ribs, and he _slammed_ back into a bunch of chairs, sending them crashing all around him. One bonked him perfectly on the forehead.

There were gasps of, “Hanako-san!”

“Damn, fatty can punch.”

“Shut up! She might come for you next!”

Hanako whirled, her hair flying as she did so, and stormed out of the gymnasium.

***

She made it all the way to the Samegawa riverbank before realizing her hand was throbbing.

She cursed.

“Where’s my bag— _damnit_ —”

She’d left it in the classroom. She’d been in such a hurry she’d forgotten to get her things before leaving. The only thing she had was her phone in her pocket.

Carefully, laboriously, she Googled “what to do if you punch someone and your hand hurts” with one hand, as she stuck the injured one in the cool river water.

She was fairly certain you needed to ice injuries like this, and the river’s snowmelt was the closest she had in that moment.

And god, it was snowmelt. It was like dunking her hand in ice water—which was what she wanted in the first place, but it was so _cold._

“Ohtani-san?” someone called out.

She glanced up, and saw a blotch of red standing at the floodplains. She blinked.

“Amagi-san,” she said.

“I…I have your bag,” Amagi said, holding up Hanako’s bag. “Um, well, I saw you storm out and I figured you wouldn’t—I was going to bring it to your house!”

Amagi came closer and put the bag on the ground next to Hanako. This close, Hanako could smell her shampoo, something ladylike and flowery. The sight of her porcelain pale skin made Hanako want to tear it bloody.

Hanako turned away.

Amagi scooted closer. “Is your hand broken?”

“I hope not,” Hanako said, and pulled the hand out to check. It was fully red, but she poked at her knuckles and while they throbbed, it wasn’t as painful as earlier. She stuck her hand back in.

“It would be best if you iced it, Ohtani-san,” Amagi said. “Chie, my best friend, she um, she watches a lot of movies, and I believe that’s what the, um, heroes do when they receive fighting injuries.”

Hanako said nothing.

“I thought it was very brave, what you did for Konishi-senpai,” Amagi said, after a beat of silence. “They shouldn’t have said those things.”

“No. They shouldn’t have.”

“Your foot doesn’t hurt, Hanako-san?”

“No.”

“That’s good. You were wearing shoes, so…that’s good,” Amagi-san said lamely. Then, as if marshaling some great courage: “I admired what you did, Ohtani-san. I really did.”

Hanako said nothing, and then a yell: “YUKIKO!”

“Oh! Chie!” Amagi-san turned, waving, and there she was: Chie Satonaka, an ugly blotch of neon green and disgusting bowl-cut hair.

“Hey, Hanako-san!” Satonaka said cheerfully, bouncing down the stairs to the Samegawa riverbank. “That was a great punch! Oh, you got injured? Next time you punch somebody, wrap your hands in boxing tape, or something. That’s what they do in the movies. Hi-yaaaah!” Satonaka kicked the air, rather ineffectively, Hanako thought.

“I don’t plan on punching anyone anymore, Satonaka,” Hanako said, pulling her hand out of the water and gathering her things. “I’m not like you.”

“H-hey!” Satonaka looked offended. “What are you being so mean for? I was complimenting you!”

“Whatever. Thanks for getting my stuff, Amagi-san,” she said to Amagi-san. The black-haired girl nodded.

Hanako walked away.

“What a _whale_ ,” she heard Satonaka mutter under her breath.

“Chie!”

“What, it’s _true—_ ”

***

Konishi-san—the father, this time—opened the door to Hanako’s knock.

He seemed confused for a second, trying to recognize her. Hanako took the opportunity to look him up and down: his hair was a mess, his clothes in disarray, his eyes red-rimmed. He looked like he’d aged a thousand years since the last time she saw him.

“Ohtani-san,” he said finally. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to see Naoki-kun,” she said softly, “and also, to offer my…”

Konishi-san sucked in a breath, and Hanako hushed.

“My son is in his room, Ohtani-san,” he said stiffly. “You may make your way up.”

She bowed her head, removed her shoes, and made her way to Naoki’s room.

“Nao-kun,” she said, rapping at the open door, “Nao-kun, it’s me. Hanako.”

Naoki turned sideways on his futon. Blankets were piled on top of him, and his nose was swollen and red. He sniffled, and his voice came out choked and ill: “Hanako-senpai?”

“Hi,” she said softly, and knelt beside him. _How are you feeling_ was on the tip of her tongue, but she quashed it. “I heard.”

Naoki turned his head away, but she could see the tears trickling down into his ears.

“I am so, so sorry, Nao-kun.”

His only answer was a sniffle.

“Do you want to talk about it, or should I distract you?”

He laughed wetly. “Could you…just…stay?”

Hanako hummed in agreement.

“Mother is busy…arranging,” he choked out, “and can’t really…take care of me right now. Not that I need it,” he said hastily. “I just…I got sick looking for her, and we didn’t find her, and now I can’t even help with the arrangements. I’m just a burden. I’m making things harder for my parents and it’s already hard enough with, with the—”

His tears flowed faster now, but he was only hiccupping, not sobbing. Hanako moved closer, damn propriety, and rested her large hand on his head.

“I’m so sorry, Saki-nee,” he cried. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t find you. I didn’t find you. I should have found you. If I’d had been faster, if I had seen more, I would have found you, I’m so sorry, Saki-nee…”

Sheer feeling welled up in Hanako’s heart, sympathy and pain and misery and loneliness all bubbling in her chest, and _anger._ Rage. Saki Konishi had been murdered, murdered by the same person who killed Mayumi Yamano, and they were out there, and she didn’t trust Detective Dojima to solve this case, and she wanted justice for Saki, and she was so hurt and angry—

And Naoki was here, and Naoki was hurting, and there was no Saki to tease him out of his pain, there was only Hanako, who had never, ever been enough for anyone, but she was the only one who was there—

“Shh,” she hummed, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.” She raked her fingers through his curly hair, and wondered if he would ever be able to look at himself in the mirror without seeing his sister, if he would ever be able to comb his hair without thinking of Saki-senpai…

“—and how can her spirit ever rest, how can her spirit ever rest, she was _murdered_ , what ritual could calm her enough to send her on her way, Saki-nee I’m so _sorry, I’m so sorry Saki-nee_ —”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Hanako Ohtani whispered, as Naoki Konishi sobbed his heart out, grieving his dead, beautiful, murdered sister.

***

Eventually, Naoki calmed down enough to be able to blow his nose and mop his eyes. Hanako went downstairs to get him some water, and he struggled to sit up, his hands weak and shaking as he held on to the glass. His eyes were puffy and red as he looked up at Hanako.

“Hanako-senpai…” he whispered. “I—”

“Hey,” she said, just as softly, “it’s okay. You don’t need to—” _thank me._

He nodded.

“So what have you been up to?” he tried, a weak attempt at changing the subject. “It rained through the night last night, did you watch the Midnight Channel? Who did you see?”

Hanako froze.

“A-ah,” she stammered, “well, I—”

“Oh?” Naoki sat up straight, scenting blood in the water. “Who was it? Who did you see, Hanako-senpai?”

 _No one,_ she almost said, or _Yosuke Hanamura_ , the first boy she could think of, but in the end what came out of her mouth was:

“Saki-senpai.”

“Saki—you saw _Saki-nee?_ Saki-nee is your soulmate?” Naoki recoiled.

Hanako drew back, sucking in a breath. “It’s not—I’m not—she’s not my soulmate!” She was ready to spring to her feet, ready to run if Naoki expressed any sort of disgust, ready to punch, maybe—

“No, no, it’s not like that, I don’t—it’s _all right,_ Hanako-senpai—” Naoki ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands. “No, no, I don’t mind if you’re—”

“I’m not!”

“So why did you see Saki-nee?”

“I don’t know! Maybe the Midnight Channel doesn’t show soulmates! Maybe it shows something else!”

Naoki’s eyes went distant. “Maybe it shows something else…” He dived for his phone.

“Nao-kun!”

“No, no, no,” he chanted, snapping his flip phone open and scrolling frantically through his messages. “He said he saw—he said he saw Mayumi Yamano. He said his soulmate was Mayumi Yamano. But that’s impossible—And you saw Saki-nee, and your soulmate definitely isn’t Saki-nee…”

His face blanched.

“What if…” he said hoarsely, and reached out to grip Hanako’s hand. “Hanako-senpai, what if the Midnight Channel doesn’t show your soulmate?”

“Huh?”

“What if it shows _the next person to die_?”

***

“That’s impossible. Ridiculous,” Hanako protested, even as Naoki insisted his new theory. “Two people don’t make a pattern. It’s a coincidence, Nao-kun.”

“We don’t want a third person to make a pattern, Hanako-senpai!” And she had to concede the point.

“Besides, we can’t explain the phenomenon, either. You said it yourself, your TV was off, then it turned on, and then you saw Saki-nee. There’s no logic, no science, which can explain a TV turning on when the on button isn’t pressed.”

Hanako took in a deep breath. “But it’s ridiculous,” she said, weakly.

“It is,” Naoki said, eyes puffy and fever-bright. “But we can test it.”

“T-test it?”

“You said your hand went through the TV,” Naoki said. “Then all we have to do is stick your hand through our TV. If it goes through, then…the magic is proven.”

“If it doesn’t?”

“Then we try again. Your own TV. A TV on a rainy night. We have to replicate the success of the first phenomenon!”

“You’re crazy,” Hanako said. “This is insane.”

“The Midnight Channel shows people who will be next to die,” he insisted. “And you have the power to stick your hand in and, and, I don’t know, maybe we can reach through the screen and pull people out before they die!”

“This is crazy,” Hanako repeated, and then Naoki struggled to his feet. “What are you _doing_?”

“There’s a TV downstairs,” he said. “We can test it right now.”

“Fine, we’ll test it, we’ll test it,” she said, “but when it fails, you are going straight back to bed and resting.”

“It won’t fail,” Naoki said, and swayed in place. His face was unhealthily flushed.

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk!” And then Naoki Konishi spectacularly failed to walk, almost falling on his face.

Hanako sucked in a breath. “Don’t ever, _ever_ tell anyone I did this,” she warned him. “Don’t _ever_ tell anyone I did this.”

Then she knelt down and said, “Get on.”

“W-what?”

“Get on,” she said, indicating her back. She was thankful Naoki wasn’t looking at her, because she could feel her face was on fire.

“P-p-piggyback?”

“The faster you get on, the faster we can get down the stairs and disprove this!”

Naoki scrambled onto her back, and Hanako bolted out the door, clambered down the stairs—“Hanako-senpai, please slow down!” Naoki cried out, his arms tightening around her—and then dropped the boy on the couch in front of the TV.

“This never happened,” Hanako warned the boy.

He nodded fearfully.

Then she turned around and touched a finger to the Konishis’ TV. It was a nice TV, not as grand as the one the Ohtanis owned, but nice enough. It sat on a squat little table in the living room, and if they put it on the floor, she and Naoki could probably crawl through it single file.

“See? Your theory…is…”

Her finger sank through.

“Oh my god.”

The TV rippled under her finger like magic, like water. The screen itself looked like waves on the ocean, but instead of rippling blue, it was gray and staticky—Hanako yanked her hand back, cursing.

Naoki jumped up, then swayed in place. He clambered toward her, and all but slapped the TV screen.

His hand _smacked_ against the screen.

“W-wha, but I saw—Hanako-senpai, touch it again!”

Hanako did, and the screen began to ripple—Naoki slapped it, and _his hand sunk through._

“AAAAHHHHH!” he yelled.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” she yelled.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” they yelled together.

Hanako yanked his hand back. “DON’T do that,” she almost yelled, and then, “Oh my god.” She slapped her hand back onto the screen. The screen rippled, and then her hand sank through.

“Oh my god.”

Naoki coughed wetly, but he was grinning—a grin with no delight in it, just a baring of teeth. “I knew it. I knew it. The Midnight Channel shows people who are next to die!”

“That makes no sense!” Hanako protested. “All we proved is that we can, somehow, put our hands in. How does that prove that Mayumi Yamano and Saki-senpai’s appearances on it somehow, signaled their deaths?”

“It must,” Naoki insisted. “It’s a, it’s a twisted calling card, or an advance warning, or a game, it’s something, it has to be something.”

“It’s—” Hanako could not say _it’s nothing._ “It’s nothing we can prove, at least,” she said finally.

Naoki clenched his fists, and Hanako could see it. She could see Naoki latching on to this, wanting this mysterious nonsense to _mean_ something, so he could solve Saki-senpai’s death somehow.

But it was nonsense. It was impossible. Illogical.

“Listen,” she said softly, “you’re sick. You said it yourself, it’s hard for your parents to take care of you right now. Why don’t I carry you back up to bed and make you some food, and then…we’ll call the detectives. Ask them what they know about Saki-senpai’s case. Have they had an autopsy yet?”

Naoki sobered, and shook his head.

“It sure is something,” Hanako said, trying to placate him. “But what if it’s just a weird thing, and we find out that it was completely mundane after all? What if tomorrow the police find the killer, huh?”

Naoki, still flushed fever-bright, nodded.

“Don’t—don’t think too much on this,” Hanako said, awkwardly. “Come on.”

***

That night, the Ohtanis ate dinner in silence, the TV blaring in the background.

“The Konishi girl, huh,” Father commented, finally.

Hanako nodded, keeping her eyes on her chopsticks.

“You were friends with her, weren’t you Hanako-chan?”

“We walked together to school sometimes,” she muttered.

“You went to her house earlier.” Hanako opened her mouth to say something— “I heard the neighbors talking,” Father added.

“Her brother was a mess,” she said.

“Naoki-kun,” Father said, rather uselessly. “I’m so…I’m so deeply sorry for the Konishis. If I ever lost you, Hanako-chan…”

Hanako nodded awkwardly.

The TV blares on about Saki Konishi’s body being found hanging upside down, much like Mayumi Yamano— _both from Inaba!_ the reporter emphasizes. Something, something, serial killer. _The reporter sounds too gleeful,_ Hanako thinks, angrily, _like she finally has something interesting to report…how cruel, how disgraceful. As if Saki-senpai didn’t leave anyone behind. As if Yamano-san didn’t leave anyone who would grieve her…_

“Father,” she said suddenly, “you said you knew Yamano-san in school?”

Father blinked, and turned watery eyes on her. “Yes, I did,” he said. “Why?”

“Her family…how are they doing?”

Father’s lip wobbled. “Her father is dead,” he said softly, “dead a long time ago. She’s survived by her mother and brother. If I remember correctly, though, Ginjiro-san—he was my senpai—lives in Kyoto.” He dashed at his eyes. “Poor Yua-san.” Hanako gathered that Yua-san was Yamano-san’s mother.

“Will you go visit them?” she asked.

“Me? Visit them?...That’s a good idea,” Father mused, surprised. “We were never close, but we did grow up together…You know Inaba.” Hanako nodded. She did know Inaba. “Poor Yua-san. You’re right, Hanako-chan.” He reached his hand across the table to pat her own. Set together like that, Hanako realized they had the same hands—chubby, large, strong.

“I was so sorry to hear about Saki-san,” Father said. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”

In the background, the TV blared, _Mayumi Yamano was staying at the Amagi Inn…the manager has stepped down, and her high school daughter has taken over managing the inn..._

Hanako ignored it, as tears dropped from her face to the table.

***

4/16, midnight

Her phone was ringing incessantly.

“Mrgph?”

“Hanako-senpai!”

Hanako bolted straight up. “Nao-kun? Are you alright?”

Naoki sounded distressed and terrified. “Hanako-senpai! Look at your TV!”

 _“What?_ ”

“Look at it! Look at it right now!” He was yelling into the phone, and Hanako held the phone away from her ear as she stumbled from her bed to her small TV set. Dimly she registered that rain was pattering on the roof.

_The TV was on._

The TV was on, and it was flickering with static—but there was a girl, another girl again, this one dressed in a kimono, with lovely flowing hair—

She sucked in a breath.

She couldn’t make much out, only a silhouette of the girl and what she was wearing. Slim, for certain. Elegantly shaped. But who was she?

Dimly she realized Naoki was yelling into her ear.

“Who is she? Who is she? Is she next to die?”

“Nao-kun _calm down_!” she yelled back. “We don’t know that! We don’t know anything!”

“I tried to stick my hand through and yank her out, but nothing happened!” Naoki yelled. “You try!”

“What do you mean _you try,_ if it didn’t work for you why would it work for me—” But Hanako tried anyway, pushing her hand in and flailing it around aimlessly. Nothing happened, though the image fizzled out. When she yanked her hand back, the image resumed.

“It didn’t work,” she reported back.

She could hear Naoki let out a ragged breath.

“Who is she,” he repeated, “who is she, we have to save her. They’re targeting women. Girls. Who is she.”

She heard little hitching breaths from across the line, and realized Naoki was crying.

“Hey…hey,” she said, ineffectually. “Hey. I’m…” _Sorry._ “I’m here.”

Naoki sniffled.

“We have to find her, Hanako-senpai,” he said. “We have to save her.”

 _Like I didn’t save Saki-nee,_ Hanako heard.

She could not say anything. Could not promise anything to Naoki, who seemed like he was barreling into a path that she didn’t understand and didn’t really believe in. But she could say, “I’m here, Nao-kun, I’m here,” and stay on the line with him until she heard his breathing even out.

4/17

Her phone was ringing incessantly.

“Mrgph?”

“Hanako-senpai!”

Hanako bolted straight up. “Nao-kun? Are you alright?”

And then she checked herself. “Is this going to be a nightly occurrence, Nao-kun—”

Naoki ignored her, yelling, “Hanako-senpai! Look at your TV! It’s her! She has a face! I can see her!

 _“What?_ ”

She scrambled to the television, nearly tripping over herself in the process. And then—

“ _Amagi-san_?”

Her hearing briefly blanked out, and all Hanako could see was Yukiko Amagi on her screen.

Yukiko Amagi, her long dark hair loose—Yukiko Amagi with a diadem on her head like some sort of princess, Yukiko Amagi in a pink Western-style sleeveless dress. Some kind of tulle or taffeta wreathed her clavicles like frosting, offering up miles of white skin like a treat. A single perfect rose adorned her chest, like the cherry on top, like a fondant flower you wanted to suck—

She shook her head violently. Naoki was still yelling.

“What? What is it?”

“Listen to her!”

“ _I’ve got my lacy unmentionables on, stacked from top to bottom!_ ” Amagi-san giggled, her golden eyes glinting. The camera zoomed in on her cleavage, and Hanako could feel herself short-circuiting. “ _I’m out to catch a whole harem, and the best of the lot is gonna be ALL MINE!_ ”

And then Amagi turned around, and Hanako could finally take in the background set. It was—a castle? A western-style castle of some sort. It looked startlingly realistic, but where on Japan would someone build something like that? And why would Amagi be there? And why would anyone _film_ it?

And why would Amagi SAY such things?

Amagi entered the castle, giggling—Hanako noticed the entrance of the castle roiled with red and black…ooze?—and then the TV switched off on its own.

Hanako sat down on the floor, hard.

“What,” she said, “was that.”

She could all but hear the embarrassment as Naoki said, “Um. I…don’t know?”

“Is she…being blackmailed?” she ventured. “Is the killer trying to…I don’t know. Did the killer kidnap her, and blackmail her into doing that, so she could stay alive a little longer…?”

“Oh, god.” Naoki’s breath came in spurts.

“Oh, I wish we’d managed to tape it!” Hanako mourned. “We could show it to the police or something, they could figure out where she is!”

There was awkward silence on the line for a while, and then Naoki burst out, “We have to call the police! We have to do something, _say_ something, if Amagi-san has been kidnapped!”

Hanako sucked in several deep breaths. “I’m still not completely sure this isn’t a hallucination.”

“A shared hallucination, though?”

“Folie a deux,” she quoted, dragging it from the depths of her memory.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. What are we even going to say? We saw Yukiko Amagi on TV, and she was dressed like a—like a princess, and she said things like _lacy unmentionables_?” Hanako felt her cheeks flame.

“Hanako-senpai, you know Amagi-san. Would she ever say such things or dress that way if she wasn’t forced to?”

“I…don’t think so,” Hanako was forced to concede. “Still, what kind of police detective would take us seriously if we—” she waved a hand, not that Naoki could see it. “If we said we saw what we saw?

Naoki, in turn, was forced to concede.

“The way I see it,” he said, finally, “there are two explanations. One…she was kidnapped and forced to do…what she did.”

Hanako nodded.

“The other…magic.”

“The other, magic, what?”

“I don’t know!” Naoki said, frustrated. “But how do you explain TVs turning on in the middle of the night and showing—that?”

“For all we know,” Hanako said, trying to be optimistic, “Amagi-san could be in school tomorrow.”

“Oh. Right,” Naoki said. And then: “Hanako-senpai, you’re going to school tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She let out a sigh.

She didn’t want to. School had a pall of mourning over it, after Saki Konishi’s death—but a pall of mourning that was interspersed with gossiping, and speculation, and _did you hear? Naoki Konishi hasn’t been in school for days; did you hear Hanako Ohtani punched Haruki Suzuki in the face for insulting Saki Konishi; did you know Yosuke Hanamura was in love with Saki Konishi?_

It was exhausting. It was horrible. It was like Saki-senpai was…an idol, of some sort, except they were all vultures picking at her corpse, trying to find something interesting to say. It didn’t matter to them that Saki-senpai was dead, all that mattered was the next scandalous thing they could find to spread.

“I,” Naoki breathed out. “Do you think it’s safe for me to come back?”

“Are you feeling better? Physically better. Your cold.”

“I think so.”

“…they’ll gossip whether or not you show, Nao-kun,” Hanako finally said, brutally honest.

“You’re right, Hanako-senpai,” he said, bitterly. “You’re right.”

“…But maybe you can put it off a little longer,” she offered.

“Maybe.”

“Tell you what,” Hanako said, heaving herself up from the floor and going back to her bed, “tomorrow, I’ll check if Amagi-san is in class. And you…you call the Amagi Inn, I guess? Check if she’s there?”

“And then what?”

Hanako had to admit that she didn’t know. “We’ll…do something. I don’t know what. But we’ll do something.”

***

Amagi-san wasn’t in school, and when she texted Naoki that afternoon, Naoki told her he’d called the inn and Amagi-san wasn’t there either.

And then Father had said, trembling, “Hanako-chan, the Amagis have reported Yukiko-san missing.”

Hanako froze, and raised her eyes to Father.

He was looking at her with great fear and worry. “Hanako-chan, the serial killer…might be targeting young women. Girls, like you.”

“Father, I—There’s no evidence for that,” she tried.

“There’s evidence,” Father said, eyes watering. He reached out to her. “Mayumi Yamano, Saki Konishi, dead. And now Yukiko Amagi is missing. That’s three women, young women. Two of them went— _go_ —to the same school you do.”

“Father, it’s the only school nearby—”

“Hanako-chan, please promise me you’ll be safe,” Father pleaded.

“Father, I—”

_I don’t know how to promise that! How can I promise to be safe? How can I promise to not be serial killer bait?!_

She lowered her head and nodded.

“I’ve tried to call Dojima-san, to convince him to let Nanako-chan stay with us,” Father said, frustration coloring his tone. Hanako felt herself stiffen. “She would certainly be safer with _us_ than with _him,_ and she can eat properly, and not have to cook for herself all the time. That damned man, did you know the child cooks all the meals? But no, he’s stubborn, he says he can take care of his own daughter and he isn’t surrendering her to me—it’s a disgrace, I don’t know why Chi-chan ever chose to marry him, it’s not like she had a lack of prospects—”

Hanako sighed and tuned him out.

***

“We could call Dojima-san,” Naoki suggested, tentatively.

They were on the phone again, Hanako lying in her bed. Unlike Naoki, she slept in a bed instead of a futon. She was currently surrounded by pillows, sinking into her cushions, as she stared up at her ceiling.

“And tell him what?” she fired back, her hackles raising.

“I don’t know,” Naoki said. “She’s reported missing, but…remember when we were children, and she used to run away all the time?”

“I do.”

“People would think she’s just run away again.”

“Saki-senpai was _just_ —” She heard Naoki suck in a breath. She didn’t finish the thought: _Just killed._ “Father is scared. He says the killer might be targeting young women.”

“He might be,” Naoki said darkly. And then: “Hanako-senpai. I thought of something you’ll hate.”

Cautiously, she asked, “What is it?”

“What if we went into the TV?”

“WHAT IF WE _WHAT._ ”

“What if we went into the TV?” Naoki spoke quickly now, trying to cut off Hanako before she protested. “We know the TV place goes _somewhere._ We know the Midnight Channel is connected to this, somehow. We _know_ that the TV and the Midnight Channel are signaling something to someone—what if we went in and did some investigating?”

“And how would we GET OUT?”

“Well, if there’s a way in there’s got to be a way _out,_ ” Naoki said, reasonably. “But even so, we could tie a rope around something and then when we run out of rope, we go back.”

“This is insane. This is ridiculous.”

“Or,” Naoki continued, “we could carry a TV into the TV.”

“We could WHAT.”

“No, see, it’s perfect! If the TV is a doorway in, and the rope idea doesn’t work, then if we carry in a TV perhaps it could be a doorway out!”

“That is a LOT of perhaps, Naoki Konishi!”

“Hanako-senpai,” Naoki said. He sounded like he was gritting his teeth. “ _Amagi-san is missing and might be murdered._ ”

 _Just like Saki-nee_ , he didn’t need to say.

“But—” Hanako felt the need to protest. “How does investigating a mysterious Midnight Channel help solve that? Why can’t we just—wait for the detectives to do their jobs?”

“We could do that,” Naoki said, agreeably. “But you would have to talk to Dojima-san.”

Hanako growled.

“So it’s set then,” Naoki said, almost smugly. “Tomorrow, after school. Come over. We’ll go into the TV then.”

“I don’t like this. This is insane,” Hanako muttered.

***

4/18

And yet, despite the insanity, there she was.

Standing in the Konishi living room, helping Naoki place their big TV on the floor, and then watching him prepare several large coils of rope and tie it around a tree in the backyard. The back porch door was open to facilitate this.

And then, to add icing on the cake, there was a little red wagon loaded with a small TV, which could just _barely_ fit Hanako. Naoki would be dragging that along behind him as they explored the other side of the TV.

“This is insane. This is insane,” Hanako muttered. But Naoki ignored all that, and handed her a knife.

“WHAT—”

“If the serial killer is there,” Naoki said, steel in his voice, “you need to have some sort of weapon, Hanako-senpai.”

“I punched Suzuki just f—right.” She forgot she hadn’t told Naoki about that.

“You punched Suzuki?!” Naoki lit up. “Why?”

Then his face darkened. “Because of—?”

She nodded, ashamed.

He breathed in, once, and then exhaled.

“Anyway.” He nodded at the knife he gave her. “That will be your weapon, and I will carry another. Just in case.”

“The killer. In the TV,” Hanako repeated to herself. “God. Okay. Fine. Let’s do this. This is insane, but let’s do this.”

The two of them took a quick look around the Konishi living room. A low table for snacks and tea; a couch; floor cushions; a small altar with some food placed upon it. Several sticks of incense stood there, unlit. There were urns there for Naoki’s grandparents, but none yet for Saki-senpai.

Naoki gripped the wagon handle, and rechecked the rope around his waist.

“Let’s go,” Naoki said.

They stepped into the TV.

***

They came out into—

“Fog?”

Hanako could see, like, one meter in front of her, maximum. Everything around her was foggy, and she couldn’t distinguish where on earth she was. Was she even _on_ earth, at this point?

“Hanako-senpai?” Naoki clutched at her shoulders. “Oh. Where is this place?”

“I don’t know, but—ah!” she shrieked, pointing at the rope around Naoki’s waist.

The _severed_ rope around Naoki’s waist.

“Damn.” Naoki cursed some more, then turned to the TV in the little red wagon. He was still pulling it behind him. He knelt down on the—street? Asphalt? Ah, so they were in a city or town of some sort, since there was a road!—and touched the TV screen.

The TV rippled.

“Well,” he said, relieved, “that works, at least.”

“We have no idea if we’ll come out in your house,” Hanako pointed out.

Naoki stood up, and looked around. “Actually, senpai…I think we might have.”

Hanako looked around, and slowly her eyes began to make out shapes in the fog…Buildings. Familiar buildings.

And then she looked up, and nearly shrieked.

“Nao-kun! The sky!”

The sky was rippling red-and-black stripes, brilliant red and darkest black, moving across the sky in grotesque animation. Hanako felt a shiver go up her spine.

“Oh god. What is this place? This is insane,” she muttered.

“I think…this is the TV world’s shopping district,” Naoki murmured. “Look.”

That was Daidara’s down the street, and the Shiroku Store. And Chinese Diner Aiya’s. And there was the shrine…

But everything around them was lit in some eerie, yellowy-gray light, making everything seem ethereal, or unreal, of some sort. Hanako couldn’t help but run her fingers across the brickwork of the buildings, and the texture wasn’t that of brick. It was oddly...pliant, like quality rubber. She pushed in and the material gave slightly, but smoothed over as soon as she pulled away.

And the fog was so pervasive. Hanako didn’t like breathing it in, but there wasn’t a choice. She breathed or she died. It didn’t smell or taste like normal fog—there wasn’t a crisp bite to it. It wasn’t cool or refreshing. It didn’t make her lungs feel clean.

Instead, there was an aura of _wrongness_ to it, something slick and oily. Something bad. Hanako figured that even if she hadn’t stepped in here of her own accord, she would have known she was in another world, simply by the way her skin prickled and her soul screamed _no, no, no, not for us, not for us._

And over it all, that oppressive red and black sky. Hanako looked up and wished she hadn’t. There was an oily sheen to the sky that _shouldn’t be there._

“Hello?” Naoki called, and she jolted. “Is anyone here? Daidara-san? Shiroku-san?”

“Are you crazy?” Hanako hissed. “What if there are monsters?”

Naoki didn’t answer, and pushed on.

Both of them slowed as they approached Konishi Liquors.

It looked exactly the same as the regular store, but when Hanako approached to touch the brickwork, it was the same rubbery, pliant material that it seemed everything in this world was made of.

Everything about it seemed the same, except for the way the world it was in was an eerie yellow-gray, and that the door leading inside was the same thick, roiling, oily, red-and-black stripes that the sky was made of.

“Oh,” Naoki breathed, reaching out to touch the portal. “What does this mean?”

“You’re asking me?” Hanako fired back. “Wasn’t this _your_ brilliant plan?”

“Senpai, you’re a bit cruel sometimes, you know that?” Naoki teased. Hanako stiffened minutely. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, and pushed forward.

“What do you mean, let’s go?” she almost shrieked. “Into that red-black rippling thing?”

“Well, yes.”

“WHY?”

“Because we won’t find answers standing out here, that’s why,” Naoki said reasonably.

Hanako opened her mouth to retort, when all her hair stood on end—

Dissonant whispers rang out:

_“I wish Junes would go under.”_

_“It’s all because of that store.”_

_“I heard Konishi-san’s daughter is working there.”_

_“Ugh, how could she? With her family’s business suffering like it is?”_

“W-what?!” She whirled around, trying to figure out where the voices came from.

But there was nothing, no one—the voices seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere. Naoki had blanched to utter whiteness.

“That’s—that’s the neighbors,” he stammered. He rattled off some names Hanako wasn’t familiar with. “And that’s the regular who always buys a bottle when her husband comes home from the city—Are you here?” He started calling out their names.

_“That poor father, to have his daughter working for the enemy.”_

_“What a troublesome child…”_

“WHO ARE YOU?” Naoki yelled. “WHERE ARE YOU? SHOW YOURSELF! IF YOU’RE GOING TO TRASH MY SISTER LIKE THAT, SAY IT TO MY FACE!”

_“Saki! How many times do I have to tell you?”_ a man’s voice roared out.

“F-father?” Naoki stammered. He whirled around. “Father, where are you?”

_“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You’re the eldest daughter of a family that has owned this store for generations!”_

“F-father,” Naoki choked out. “No, please—”

 _“You should be ashamed,”_ a woman’s voice joined in. Hanako jerked back. Naoki’s mother. _“You’re setting a horrible example for your brother…don’t you know what the neighbors say about you?”_

_“You used to be such a good girl…”_

_“Why can’t you be a good girl again…”_

_“You’re such a disappointment…”_

_“Such a disappointment…”_

_“Such a disappointment…”_ This voice was different. This voice wasn’t Naoki’s mother, or any of his neighbors—this voice was horribly familiar, and Hanako recoiled, curling in on herself.

“SHUT UP!” Naoki screamed. “SHUT UP, SHUT UP! MY SISTER ISN’T A DISAPPOINTMENT!”

_“You should be ashamed…”_

_“A bad example for your brother…”_

_“Poor little Naoki-kun…”_

“SHUT UP!!!!!!!!” Naoki screamed.

 ** _“But why?”_** another voice joined in, silky-sweet. Both of them whirled around. **_“Why should they shut up? This is the truth. This is the life that Saki Konishi lived, that you, Naoki Konishi, were too blind to see…_**

 ** _“Or maybe...”_** The voice turned coy, teasing. Mocking laughter made its way into the voice as it said, **_“maybe you didn’t want to see. Maybe you averted your eyes to make it easier for you.”_**

“What? NO!” Naoki yelled. “If my sister was suffering, I would know! I would have helped, if I knew!”

 ** _“But you knew, Naoki,”_** the voice crooned. **_“You heard her and Father fighting all the time. You heard him screaming at her to quit. But she never did. And you never asked...because if you asked, then you’d have to do something about it._**

**_“And you never ever wanted to do anything about it. You just wanted to be baby brother, always needing to be taken care of, always wanting to be taken care of. Even now, you’re still depending on Hanako-senpai to take care of you…Crying to her…calling her every night…You’re still a baby!”_ **

“WHO ARE YOU? SHOW YOURSELF!” Naoki screamed hysterically.

**_“If you wish…”_ **

A boy materialized in front of them, his back turned. He was the same height as Naoki, the same body type…the same curly Konishi hair…

He turned around. He had Naoki’s face, twisted into a cruel smile, golden eyes glinting. Around him, a blue aura flickered—like smoke, or flame, something inherently magical and inherently horrible.

“Who are you?!” Naoki cried out.

**_“I am the one who heard every fight between Father and Saki-nee and never stepped in to defend her,”_** the boy crooned. **_“I’m the one who never asked why Saki-nee’s eyes were swollen and puffy after a fight. I’m the one who secretly thinks...”_** His voice dropped, and Hanako hadn’t thought that-who-was-not-Naoki could sound crueler or more mocking, but he did. **_“I’m the one who thinks, deep down inside, that MAYBE IT’S A GOOD THING SAKI-NEE DIED!”_**

“WHAT?!”

 ** _“Because this way, she gets revenge on Father,”_** he-who-was-not-Naoki continued, ruthlessly. **_“Father drove her away! Father made her miserable! Now she’s dead and her death makes FATHER miserable. And…”_** He laughed, a deep evil cackle that made Hanako’s hair stand on end. **_“And this way, all I ever have to do to punish Father…is to bring up Saki-nee!”_**

“No! NO! Who are you to be saying such things?”

 ** _“Who am I? You haven’t guessed?”_** The boy cackled. **_“I AM YOU.”_**

“NO! No, you’re not!” Naoki roared. “YOU’RE NOT ME!”

The whole horrible world fell into a hush, and Hanako viscerally felt that something had gone very, _very_ wrong.

The boy began to cackle.

“W-what—?” Naoki stammered.

 ** _“You’re right. I’m not you anymore.”_** The boy began to _grow_ , to roil, his Naoki-shape bubbling and growing into something eldritch and wrong— ** _“I’m not you anymore! I’M ME!”_**

The cackle echoed across the whole, empty, terrible shopping district.

The Naoki-shape morphed, like slime, into a giant skull, cracked open at the top, a _huge,_ flesh-colored brain hovering above it.

Hanako dry-heaved.

The brain alone was as large as Naoki himself, dripping with fluids, and tendrils of what looked like brain matter hovered around it, giving it the look of an octopus. The skull’s jaw unhinged, and a large tongue, the same color as the brain matter, lolled out.

He-who-was-not-Naoki’s voice called out:

**_“I am a Shadow! The true self! I am a child who takes glee in the suffering of others, and now, I’ll inflict it all on YOU!”_ **

All the tendrils lashed out at Naoki at once—he screamed in terror—

Hanako launched herself forward and stabbed at the brain.

A high-pitched shriek, and all the tendrils turned towards Hanako. They whipped out at her, smacking her exposed skin. Hanako screamed. As the tendrils dragged away, they tore skin and left bloody lash marks.

“HANAKO-SENPAI!”

“Go, Nao-kun! Run!” Hanako screamed. She flailed blindly and stabbed again, stabbing the brain over and over. The tendrils lashed out, and she kicked out wildly as they raised her high into the air and hurled her down the street.

The knife, pulled free by the movement, clattered onto the pavement.

Hanako crashed into the ground, and sobbed out loud as she felt her leg crunch.

“Hanako-senpai!” Naoki hurried to her side—or tried. The tendrils lashed out and caught him up, and held him up in the air. He screamed, legs kicking. The brain-octopus cackled.

 ** _“What a sad end for Naoki Konishi,”_** the brain-octopus—the Shadow?—laughed. **_“You couldn’t save Saki-nee, and you won’t be able to save Hanako-senpai. You’ll watch as I KILL HER, and then…I’ll kill you too!”_**

“NO!” Naoki yelled. “No, no, please, anything, don’t do this—”

 _What are you going to do, Hanako?_ a new voice asked suddenly.

_Huh?_

_You’ve spent your entire life not being enough,_ the voice continued. It sounded like someone coming from very, very far away. In Hanako’s wildly whirling mind, she likened it to someone shouting from a neighboring mountaintop and having the echoes carry the message. _Mother. Father. Everyone at school. Everyone thinks you’re ugly, and fat, and unlovable—_

“That’s not true!” Hanako yelled.

“Who’s that?” Naoki yelled. “Don’t taunt Hanako-senpai!” The tendrils of brain matter shook him, and then hurled him up into the air—he screamed—the tendrils caught him again, and the brain-octopus cackled.

The voice continued inexorably on. _Are you going to be “not enough” for Nao-kun either? Are you going to die in front of him, as ineffectual as you always have been? Are you not going to fight for your life and his?_

“Ngggghhh…” The pain in her leg flared, and her head pounded. Blood rushed in her ears, and she could feel her own heartbeat roaring…

_ Are you going to die here, Hanako Ohtani? Are you going to die in a different world without ever having proven yourself? _

“Nggggh…No!”

Blue flame flared around Hanako, and she managed to stagger to her feet. She sobbed in agony. The pain in her possibly-broken leg was excruciating.

“If you can’t run, walk,” she chanted to herself, tears of pain running down her cheeks, “if you can’t walk, crawl…”

She staggered towards the knife. A tendril lashed out to take it from her, but she grabbed it, lightning-fast—one hand holding on to the tendril, another one holding the knife, and then she slashed it in half.

The new voice, _Hanako’s_ voice, she realized now, grew louder and louder in her ears—

 _I AM THOU, THOU ART I,_ the voice said, and Hanako realized she was yelling those words, too, screaming them with all the breath in her lungs, even as she staggered her way to Naoki. More and more tendrils from the brain octopus lashed out at her, and every one that came her way she slashed in midair. Some managed to get through and lash at her form, leaving torn skin and wounds—those she was too slow to prevent, she grabbed on the return and slashed into half. _THOU WHO WILL NEVER SURRENDER, THOUGH DEATH ITSELF MAY BE WAITING AT THE END! THOU WHO WILL CHANGE YOUR FATE, NO MATTER WHO OPPOSES THEE!_

Hanako screamed.

“Come to me! KAGUTSUCHI!”

An _explosion_ of blue flame—

A humanoid figure stood in front of Hanako, far taller than any normal human could ever be. She towered over the brain octopus, a volcano in human form: her large, wide body was all dark volcanic rock, cracks in between showing bubbling red-orange lava. Her head was haloed with spewing black ash-cloud, forming the vaguest impression of hair.

She turned to look at Hanako, and her eyes were holes filled with blazing flame—she smiled, and her mouth flickered with fire.

“I am thou, thou art I,” Hanako said, the words spilling from her mouth though she had no idea where they came from. Kagutsuchi laughed, and the laughter exited her mouth in flame. The air almost steamed where she stood.

Kagutsuchi held out a large hand, indicating Hanako’s knife. She placed it in the volcanic-rock hand, and it instantly lengthened into a huge, flaming sword.

Together, they yelled, “ _I am Kagutsuchi, unloved child and god of fire! Bow before my flame, and **beg! For! MERCY!**_

**_“P E R S O N A ! ”_ **

Kagutsuchi rushed at the brain octopus, and slashed at the tendrils holding Naoki in place. With one hand, she caught him, and placed him on the ground near Hanako—then she opened her mouth and breathed out an inferno.

There was a piercing shriek that seemed to echo all around the world. The large skull, scorched black, clattered to the ground, before disappearing in a puff of black dust.

He-who-was-not-Naoki lay bleeding on the ground.

Kagutsuchi turned her back and returned to Hanako.

“I am thou, thou art I,” she said softly. “I will always be with you…Call upon me.” She pressed a card into Hanako’s hand.

Then she vanished, and Hanako felt a burning, almost uncomfortable warmth in her breastbone.

“Come on,” she said, pulling at Naoki, “let’s go home.”

“No…wait.”

Naoki tugged away, and began walking towards he-who-was-not-Naoki.

“Nao-kun—” Hanako limped after him.

“You were right,” Naoki said, kneeling down beside his Shadow. “I didn’t help Saki-nee. I plugged my ears and pretended they weren’t fighting whenever she and Father went at it…I depended on her to make me laugh, to do my homework, to teach me things. And I do think that Father deserves what he’s getting now…” His breath hitched, and he dashed tears away. “I do think that he didn’t love Saki-nee enough, and this is his karma.”

His bleeding Shadow looked up at him through golden eyes. Tears from Naoki dropped onto his Shadow’s face.

“So all those things you said? You’re right. And no one else could know those things…but me.” Naoki wiped the tears off his Shadow’s face. “You’re me, and I’m you.”

The Shadow Naoki smiled, and closed his eyes.

There was a burst of blue flame—gentle now, not vicious like the other times, but soft like a hearth fire.

Shadow Naoki disappeared, and in front of Naoki hovered another brain.

—No. Not just another brain. This was a vaguely humanoid figure, essaying like a djinn or spirit from a burial urn. The figure was dressed in traditional mourning black, its large sleeves billowing in a nonexistent wind. But around where its head would be was a large brain, with floating tendrils around it, and at the end of each tendril was an eye.

Hanako limped closer, and examined the tendrils. They looked like Saki-senpai’s curls.

“Omoikane-no-kami,” Naoki breathed.

The brain—no, _Omoikane-no-kami_ —nodded, and disappeared. A card floated in front of Naoki, and he caught it.

Then he staggered.

“Nao-kun!” Hanako made to catch him, but the pain in her own leg flared up.

They looked at each other, both on their knees on the pavement in a world not their own.

“I have no idea what just happened,” Hanako said faintly.

“Me...too…Hanako…senpai,” Naoki breathed. “Can you…make it to the wagon?”

Hanako looked at the red wagon, which contained the television that was, hopefully, their way home.

“If you can’t run…walk…if you can’t walk…crawl,” she said. Naoki nodded.

They began to crawl towards the wagon.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, you made it all the way here? Wow. Thank you so much. <3 If you liked it, drop a kudo--or better yet, drop a COMMENT and tell me if you liked it!


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